


Problems will be as big as you let them

by Masaomi (TheTacticianMagician)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, Wetting, self-indulgent trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 22:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7951573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTacticianMagician/pseuds/Masaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a beautiful day for the citizens of Tokyo. Streaks of orange have begun to cut the skies above the line of the horizon, signalizing the oncoming end of the afternoon. No barks from dogs or honks from cars, just the barely grazing breeze and the constant chatter of shoes against the pavement.</p><p>… Too bad Masaomi can’t really appreciate any of that because his heavy bladder is demanding far too much attention from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problems will be as big as you let them

**Author's Note:**

> This was a piece written two years ago and it goes along with a fanart.
> 
> ... I'm gonna just walk away now ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

 

It’s a beautiful day for the citizens of Tokyo. Streaks of orange have begun to cut the skies above the line of the horizon, signalizing the oncoming end of the afternoon. No barks from dogs or honks from cars, just the barely grazing breeze and the constant chatter of shoes against the pavement.

 

… Too bad Masaomi can’t really appreciate any of that because his heavy bladder is demanding far too much attention from him.

 

He isn’t due returning home for a while now, and he thinks  _ stupid, stupid, stupid,  _ should’ve gone before he left, he’s not this careless despite what he looks like. But his apartment is a bit far now, and he’s stuck in a limbo. He thinks he can perhaps pull this off, go through fine; his limits change every time, but he’s done that before – trying to hold it in that is.

 

Last time he’d emptied was with the sunrise, and now the sun was almost all down. It wouldn’t be anything to gawk at if he hadn’t drunk as much as he did.

 

He hadn’t thought much of it before he left, since he used to wear a thousand different schedules under his sleeves for the past three years out of necessity. Masaomi recalls the times he had lunch at eleven p.m., or at five; dinner at 9 a.m., showers at 4 a.m., at least one entire night awake in the hospital, the half-week he’d spent with barely eating anything as he was too low on money from paying Izaya, including the one day he could only stomach water and nothing else from how hard a beating he’d gotten in the guts. The youth could almost consider himself something of a time master, as his parents never did care for designing schedules or other such limits for their son, and he’s been living alone for quite a large while now.

 

So, that meant he was free. A little bit too free; so if anything happens, the blame is his to take.

 

And he hates himself right now.

 

“But doesn’t the police encroach on people who have their motorlights off at night? Or are they too scared of the Rider to try and confront him?”

 

Hates himself even more than usual, because usually, Mikado isn’t there to suffer any consequences from his mistakes.

 

“Masaomi?”

 

“Sorry I was,” the young blonde began, stretching out his arms leisurely to hide the shiver that racks through him at that moment. “Trying to remember what the cops’ve been doing. I think they try to catch the Headless Rider when they see him, but that motorcycle sure is something else. People don’t manage it when they try to pull the same stunts.”

 

For a moment he thinks Mikado has seen through him for his voice faltered in the slightest there; but then he realizes (not with relief, not with the relief he  _ needs _ ) that the boy’s just zoned out on his fascination for whatever that’s not normal. This was one of the reasons he was afraid of what would happen if he told Mikado that the rumours about the headless rider being – well, headless – were in fact true.

 

So Masaomi took the moment to try to adjust his pants (keyword is try; with how tight they were he would never succeed) and think of anything that could help him through this. Of course the easiest way around would be asking his friend if they could head back, before they were skirting the borders towards other districts -

 

He imagines Mikado’s pout.

 

…  _ Sighs. _ He can’t do it. Especially when the raven boy was the one to suggest they go out to explore the city today, when nine out of ten times Kida was the one to decide what they were going to do. It just wouldn’t be fair to Mikado.

 

Wasn’t he overthinking this? He’d be fine! Just walk around a little more, show a few tricks to the city he hadn’t mentioned before, Mikado wasn’t too demanding after all- he could even show the paths through the alleyways if he got too desperate. He’d be needing those alleyways to provide shortcuts anyways…

 

His friend halted in his step, and Masaomi stopped suddenly by his side – prompting a loud string of curses to fly through his head as that caused pressure to ripple through his bladder.  _ Who am I trying to fool?   _ He’s not gonna be fine at all.

 

“That’s where…”

 

The blonde followed Mikado’s gaze to a spot well above ground, a couple streets away: a building side where they’d last ‘seen’ Shizuo. The more proper term would be, 'saw the signpost he threw violently lodge itself into the wall like an arrow on a target’.

 

“Worried about finding him? He works for a debt collector, so it’d be weird for him to go the same way twice.”

 

“Except when he’s going home, I suppose.”

 

Oddly enough, he doesn’t sound scared. He sounds  _ hopeful _ .

 

Maybe Masaomi can twist things his way a bit, so they at least won’t head too far from either of their apartments.

 

“I don’t think we should try our chances at bumping into him, then! Let’s be going this way.” He heads leftwards- Mikado is able to catch up without even increasing speed and this might be a first for him. Kida is just glad there are no complaints about him choosing the path.

 

“I know we have good reason to be scared, but maybe he’s really a nice guy.” Mikado says it with the same sincere tone he used when they were kids and Masaomi dragged him off to catch bugs in the middle of the night. That tone of believing in someone, being full of faith in a possibility. 

 

Masaomi is surprised that he was even able to pick up the memory, as the heat in his groin is slowly cooking his brain. And also because he hasn’t been paying as much attention to his friend as he usually – always – does, since Mikado manages to stir many emotions within him and many emotions is not something you want to feel when your bladder needs to be under control.

 

“He does is nice, but he gets angry too easy. You have to learn how to tread before you step in!” His legs are thin as sticks, so it’s a bit difficult to press them together effectively, much less make it unnoticeable, much less while  _ walking _ . But he’s trying.

 

“Well, you don’t really take your own advice a whole lot of times, then.” Mikado offered a light tease.

 

“Oh, gimme a break!”  _ That’s pretty much what he needed, actually. _

 

They keep walking. He looks around the streets, the residences and buildings and stores and in general no place he knew well, no place he could use. Damn.

 

Somehow the fact he’d managed to change their general direction was sort of comforting, so he hung onto that thought. This was probably something to regret later, being entirely quiet when he needed help.

 

_ I’ve dealt with this before,  _ he mentally huffs, and so presses on. He can at least admit to himself that he’s a fool.

  
  
  


More walking, seemingly aimless (it’s exploration, but it’s not like they ever bring a map, and today is not a day Masaomi can be the parrot guide he usually is) and with minimal talking. Night is going to be over them eventually. The blonde really would appreciate the idea of finding anything that could remotely be called a bathroom, and then the both of them could spend the evening bouncing around the rich nightlife of Ikebukuro without major deterrents other than age and time to go back.

 

He already misses giving Mikado the attention he deserves.

 

“I-it feels kinda nice to be able to go around as I wish though. My parents thought I’d take months to get used to walking around…” Mikado rubbed the back of his head, smiling shyly. “And well, here I am.”

 

 _He’s_ _so cute!_ Masaomi wished he could gush over his friend’s adorableness like he did every time, but if he stepped out of the calm zone his bladder would definitely amp up his awareness by a notch, and so far in his life he’s only been able to go back into tranquility from then a couple times. Concentrate on walking!~ Do not think about how full you are and how you really need to let yourself go soon!~ Fuck.

 

He hopes Mikado isn’t picking up on all these out-of-character hints, which he either certainly is or certainly isn’t. After all, the blue-eyed boy was like a pen; either blunt in his naïveté or sharp, full of hidden colours.

 

“You’re acting a bit weird today.”  _ Shit. Luck loves to bite him in the ass. _ “Are you tired?”

 

“I am many things, Mi-ka-do~” Masaomi tries to brush it off with a wink. Maybe that worked because the raven boy looked away, slightly flustered.  _ D'aw. _

 

They walked in uncharacteristic silence, as the usual was for Kida to motormouth the entire world and then some to his friend, who mostly stayed on the end of it, only listening about half the time. But now Masaomi was a quiet as he could be, while Mikado did his own visual research around and asked questions he deemed necessary, getting brief and objective answers in turn.

 

The faux blonde’s bladder felt too heavy in his abdomen. He entertained the thought of being able to even feel the swell of it on his stomach if he put a hand under his hoodie. He bit his lip, feeling cold and hot all at once; how long should this take again?

  
  
  


A while later (and what a while that was, his body had gone from “I’m really umcorfortable” to “Idon'tlikethisIdon'tlikethiscanwepleasegonow?”), Mikado is walking towards West Gate Park, and the fountain. Teasing-as-hell fountain. Masaomi grits his teeth and his mind is exasperatedly torn between  _ 'Fuck you, Mikado’  _ and  _ 'Fuck me, Mikado.’ _

 

When the highschooler turns back to face him, though, he puts his smile back on. His legs were shivering like harp strings but thankfully those rain blue eyes weren’t set on them.

 

“I’m surprised you aren’t catching up to me like you always do, Masaomi. You were always ahead.”

 

“Well, I’ve got to let you choose too, d-don’t I?”

 

Mikado tilts his head sideways a little, and the blonde wished he wouldn’t look at him like that because he knows his face is donning a blush and will probably stay like so until he can have his break.

 

“You’re fidgeting.”

 

Um. He hadn’t noticed that. “Am I?”

 

“Are you alright? Something seems…”

 

The boy’s concerned face is decidely adorable, and Masaomi can’t believe he’s going to lie to that.

 

“Maybe I have to admit! I do feel a bit unwell. The great Kida Masaomi is not always at his prime.” It didn’t come out as cheery and loose as he wanted it to, but well, he’d be doomed if he were to go loose. Those damning fountain noises were making him fidget even more in an attempt to not outright squirm.

 

“If you’re not feeling too well then we should go home. We can do this at any other time, no problem.” Mikado tried to reassure him, expression softening, knowing it was very difficult to make somebody like his friend change his mind.

 

At any other time he would indeed have exclaimed  _ No way! _ and pressed on, saying it was totally okay. But now he was really, really full, and it was actually scaring him. He  _ wanted  _ to go home.

 

“Yeah, you’re right. We should choose another day forrrmmmmhnnnnnnnn-” Kida’s words slurred into a muffle as his bladder gave a keen, desperation-inducing throb. He had to sharply dig his nails into his palm to keep from grabbing his crotch.

 

“Does it hurt?!” Mikado took his hand to keep the nails from digging in too much. It’s the first touch Masaomi has gotten in a long while and the jump of it actually makes him leak a little.

 

It’s terrifying.

 

“Well, yep, yep,” He manages in jumbled breaths, trying to regain complete control of himself, and he steps in pretty close to Mikado so neither he nor nobody else will see it when his hand reaches down to make sure, just to make sure, just to hold at his (damp, he doesn’t want it to get  _ wet _ ) crotch for a little bit.

 

He knows he’s gonna be getting to the point where coherent strings of thought are no longer a possibility, and he doesn’t look forward to it, nor to when his limbs decide to drop control and start doing a dance.

 

And the first point sounds terrible, to put it lighty; if he loses coherency among the many streets of Ikebukuro, he won’t know what’s left and right anymore.

 

“You’re really nervous, Masaomi, how bad are you feeling?” Mikado tries to get his friend to look him in the eye, with no luck. The telltale shivers under his skin help stir the cauldron of concern within his stomach. “Talk to me, be serious, please.”

 

Masaomi can hardly dream of lying to a tone of voice like that, so he just stammers out, “P-pretty bad.” He squirms, his bladder tempted after that first little leak.

 

“Then let’s be going! I’m sorry, you should’ve told me you were staying home if you were like that…” Mikado berated himself (does he feel guilty?), gently beckoning Masaomi to walk; which he only does when he’s sure he’s not going to lose it with the movements.

 

Just walk, just walk… you’ll be somewhere soon… Please be somewhere soon…

 

“Do you need some water?”

 

Violent shivers in response.  _ Don’t think about it, don’t think. _ “No. No. Can we- go a little faster?” Kida’s face has contorts of concentration, eyebrows knotted. He wished his cold sweat would take some pressure off his bladder, wished his dick wasn’t perpetually half-hard in this state, but especially wished he’d be home already.

 

“You look really sick.” Mikado is trying to help him walk at a better pace, round troubled eyes noticing the awkward way in which his friend walked but still not knowing the true cause of it.

 

The clock ticks and every single second is like a hellish eternity, but that doesn’t mean they’re going any faster. They’re not even halfway to either of their places. Were there other options? Russia Sushi was… shit, he couldn’t… He was too focused on every single step and looking up into the waning crowd made him feel lost and hopeless.

 

He was getting truly desperate. This was taking long, this was a huge city. His hands are clenching and unclenching on the pocket of his hoodie, his steps are an odd hybrid between dragging and skipping, and it’s been a while since Mikado has placed a hand on his back to help him keep up. He doesn’t even want to think about the odd looks they might be getting from passerbies.

 

Masaomi’s mind is a string of incoherency and pleads and curses. He can’t keep up the speed, can’t give real thought to the friend beside him, trying to help. Mikado doesn’t know how to deal with this and, well, neither does he, actually.

 

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The pounding of blood in his ears feels like a clock ticking and mocking, telling him he’s late, too late.

 

_ Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease! _

 

At the entrance of an alleyway, one he at least knew webbed to several other paths, Masaomi stopped dead in his tracks. He was panting,  _ hard. _

 

“T-there’s another way we can take,” It’s hard to keep his breathing patterns on check, hard to keep his voice from pitching into a squeak mid-sentence, harder still to keep himself from just dropping right where he is and-

 

“Masaomi-” Mikado took his hand, gentle as ever.

 

Kida darted off into the alley.

 

“W-wait!” Was his friend’s panicked interjection as he was dragged into a run.

 

His breaking point. He can almost taste it.

 

Masaomi’s knees nearly give in when he stops and presses back against the dusty wall, they’re not even that far into the alleyway but he can’t take it anymore, physically can’t take it anymore, bladder swollen and pained and mind buzzing tiredly with the sheer concentration he has to put on  _ not letting go _ . His hand slithers down to his crotch to try and help him hold on, rubbing and pressing and he doesn’t even  _ care _ .

 

“I can’t move.” Wheeze. He was afraid to even try a step, actually, and hardly had the strength to push his back off the wall. Squirm, squirm, squirm, thighs rubbing,  _ heavens- _

 

He can’t do it, he’s going to burst, so full he can hardly find space for air. Maybe if he told Mikado to go get some medicine,  _ right now _ , maybe he’d go away and it’d be less embarrassing-

 

“Masaomi.” Mikado’s voice.  _ F-fuck. Fuck. _ “Don’t tell me- d-did you need…?”  _ He sounds so confused, so worried.  _ “This place isn’t l-looking too safe for us to stay in, t-though, so come on. Y-you can lean on me and-”

 

And then Mikado  _ pulls him. _

 

_ No. _

 

_ Nonononononono– _

 

It’s a drawn line, and he feels it when his bladder lets go.

 

Masaomi presses his hand there  _ tighter _ still, but that- won’t do anything, he’s begun to leak, feels the undeniable wetness spreading out from his tip. The liquid  scorching hot against his hand, more, more of it, completely undeterred in its gravity-aided descent to  _ any-fucking-where that would not be good for him _ .

 

He lets out a whimper, and instantly draws up his right arm to muffle his mouth so as not to let any more of those embarrassing sounds come out; it’s awful enough as it is. His eyes are closed tight, he doesn’t want to see, can only feel- urine pools around his crotch and slithers quick down his legs and it’s so much and the relief just feels  _ so good  _ -

 

“M-Masaomi? You okay?”

 

That’s- Mikado.

 

Kida muffled out a miserable whine. His body felt hot in its entirety, but somehow his face felt even hotter as he was sharply reminded of the fact that his  _ best friend  _ was still  _ there _ .

 

And there’s no way the raven boy can’t see it, can’t smell it, can’t hear it, because now there’s a steady stream falling between his legs and colliding with the concrete floor. Loudly enough.

 

Shame churns within him and combats the overwhelming pleasure. He’s pissing himself in front of his  _ best friend _ , his childhood friend who he may or may not be heavily attracted to, when he should be the stronger one, the one who-

 

A hand on his shoulder, trembling slightly. It tries to steady up.

 

Mikado swallowed thickly. “J-just- just let it all go.” His eyebrows are still creased with concern, but softening now that he understands the situation, and he’s so awkward about it; blushing half as hard as Masaomi is and with blue eyes wide.

 

Kida’s not looking at him, still has eyes screwed pitifully shut, the puddle growing ever larger underneath the slim teenager. His grip tightens on the quaking shoulder (all of Masaomi is quaking, and Mikado bashfully notices how the stream’s thinned so maybe it won’t be long before it ends); and it feels all so surreal for him, like a stark reversal of roles, how he’s the one having to comfort his friend now.

 

There’s no way to know at which exact point it stops, because Mikado feels the head leaning on his shoulder, nearly falls backwards because Masaomi is leaning on him, breathing harsh, stepping away from the puddle, as though he’s- trying to hide in him.

 

“Why didn’t you-” He starts, but allows his words to cut off. That’s not what will help right now, with Masaomi’s arms trembling around him and his bangs mussing onto his neck. So he embraces him instead, trying to ease his own breaths.

 

“I’m sorry.” It comes out a little choked, and that doesn’t sound too fitting of his best friend (but he couldn’t blame him at all for it).

 

“… I’m not mad. I was just…” Shakes his head, “I’m the stupid one here, I should have done something for you. I should have noticed.” He doesn’t mind the heavy scent, and wouldn’t mind if Masaomi pressed closer to him, wet clothes and all, either. He somehow feels warm inside, doing the comforting. “I know you’re blaming yourself right now, so please don’t do it.”

 

“Don’t do it to yourself either…”

 

Masaomi is caressing his back. Mikado mirrors the tender movements in the blond hair pressed against his neck.

 

There’s a silence lingering over them, the sky fading darker and darker. The raven boy feels the knot in his stomach slowly disappear as both their breaths even up, as Masaomi’s shivers eventually come to a halt.

 

At some point, when the first streetlights start turning on, Mikado clears his throat awkwardly. “It’ll be dark soon. We can wait here, if you want, until it’s… n-not as obvious anymore.”

 

Leaning away from their embrace, sort of wobbly and awkward, Masaomi avoids his friend’s eyes with a blush still present on his face. “Well, we…” He tries to draw his usual humour back into his tone. “I should be going back home… to wash, you know.”

 

Mikado doesn’t wait long before speaking up, a little sudden, “We can go to my place.”

 

Masaomi jolted up a little at that. His best friend’s one-room apartment was one of the most pitiful places in Tokyo, but it was still something of a haven for them. So he inquires, “Can I?”

 

Mikado nods in a manner that endorses an  _ Of course!, _ then shyly hands him his messenger bag, knowing it’ll help to hide him better. Of course, the evening and the black pants were the true saviour points, but…

 

Quickly dangling the bag from both his shoulders, Masaomi stammered a “thanks”, again pretty aware of his soaked and tight-clinging underwear, the cool air on his damp pants edging him on shivers. The raven boy looked on in bashful sympathy; it must feel really uncomfortable to walk like that.

 

“When you’re ready.” He says, sweetly, and his heart thrums when the first genuine smile of the afternoon comes across Masaomi’s features – nervous, but still genuine.

 

“I’m always ready for a cutie like you~”

 

The raven boy laughs.

 

“H-hey! I’m trying to get over this, you know?” Kida squeaked at him. He rarely gets to see the blonde like this and it’s like a gift whenever it happens; the dark alleyway and lingering stench and nearby puddle give no weight to it at all.

 

Mikado smiles. “Masaomi?”

 

“Hm?”

  
_ kiss. _


End file.
